He held out his hand; Charling caught at it, and together they raced up the avenue. But getting in the back way was impossible, for Murchison met them full on the terrace, and Charling ran straight into his arms. There should have been scolding and punishment, no doubt, but Charling found none. And, now, who so sleek and demure as the runaways, he in Eton jacket and she in spotless white muslin, when the carriage drew up in front of the hall, amid the cheers of the tenants and the bowing of the orderly, marshalled servants? And then a lady, pretty as a princess in a fairy tale, with eyes as blue as Harry's, was hugging him and Charling both at once; while a man, whom Harry at once owned to _be_ a man, stood looking at the group with grave, kind eyes. "We'll never, never tell," whispered the boy. The servants had been sworn to secrecy by Murchison. Charling whispered back, "Never as long as we live." But long before bedtime came each of the runaways felt that concealment was foolish in the face of the new circumstances, and with some embarrassment, a tear or two, and a little gentle laughter, the tale was told. "Oh, Harry! how could you?" said the stepmother, and went quietly out by the long window with her arm round her brother's shoulders. Charling was left alone with her father. "Why didn't you tell me, father?" "I wish I had, childie; but I thought--you see--I was going away--I didn't want to leave you alone for a fortnight to think all sorts of nonsense. And I thought my little girl could trust me." Charling hid her face in her hands. "Well! it's all right now! don't cry, my girlie." He drew her close to him. "And you'll love Harry very much?" "I will. He brought you back." "And I'll love _her_ very much. So that's all settled," said Charling cheerfully. Then her face fell again. "But, father, don't you love mother any more? Cook said you didn't." He sighed and was silent. At last he said, "You are too little to understand, sweetheart. I have loved the lady who came home to-day all my life long, and I shall love your mother as long as I live." "Cook said it was like being unkind to mother. Does mother mind about it, really?" He muttered something inaudible--to the cook's address. "I don't think they either of them mind, my darling Charling," he said. "You cannot understand it, but I think they both understand." WITH AN E